


Comedy and Tragedy

by FlamingFlyingFoxOfDoom



Category: Undertale
Genre: I failed, I tried not to ship them, M/M, Now here's a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamingFlyingFoxOfDoom/pseuds/FlamingFlyingFoxOfDoom
Summary: Wingdings Gaster didn't have an easy time finding his assistants. At first, there was only one.





	1. Chapter 1

Gaster, the Royal Scientist, was a peculiar man. Somehow strange even by monster standards. He was tall and pale and constantly donned a long black coat. His eyes were like pits of tar with small pinpricks of light in them, and his hands were skeletal with two large gaping holes in them. Were his appearance abnormal enough, he also was constantly _smiling._ As such, he had quite a challenging time finding fellow monsters to work with him. Above ground, the humans feared him, and the monsters wary of him. Under the ground, monsters simply found him difficult to be around. Apparently his tendency to cause explosions made them feel uneasy.

And in all honesty, he was fine working alone. It was easier to focus when he was alone. It was only at the request of the monster king that he began to search for an assistant.

He stepped out into the main hall of his laboratory, musing to himself as his eyes flicked across the list of names. Normally he'd be avoided, but at the King's request, many monsters flocked to the call. Peering up from above the clipboard, he assessed the accumulated monsters. There were several bunnies, a cat or two, even a dog. A red bird, a man made of blue fire, and a lizard-like monster sitting in the corner.

The interviews didn't impress him at all.

A monster would sit across from him in a small room. Gaster would ask a question or two, and instantly watch them seize up. They'd begin to breathe shakily, fidgeting and trying oh so hard to look anywhere but at him. Gaster would fight back a yawn, say 'I'll inform you of the result later' and the monster would shuffle out. He was beginning to find the whole thing quite tedious as well as pointless when he found a monster who'd meet his eyes.

It was the lizard who was in the corner. He was maybe half of Gaster's height, maybe a bit taller. His scales were a lemon-yellow and he had a long, thick tail that twitched profusely. In front of his eyes sat a pair of rectangular spectacles which were constantly being readjusted. The apparel this monster chose was a simple sweater-vest and slacks. As he was a lizard with clawed feet, he obviously didn't care for wearing shoes. Most monsters didn't.

"So," Gaster started after the formal handshake, settling on the seat across from the lizard man "Might I have your name?"

"Marty," He introduced himself.

"Right then, Marty. Let's start with…" And thus Gaster asked his questions. But as the interview progressed, he found himself trying to stare Marty down. The lizard man seemed very adamant in making eye contact, not flinching at all at Gaster's dark smile. Actually, Marty seemed to have a perpetual scowl, as if everything Gaster said personally offended him.

Aside from a bit more tension, the interview went as normal.

The Royal Scientist flipped through his notes that evening, leaning heavily on one arm and listening to the sputtering hum of the few generators. He made them himself, out of spare parts that fell down into waterfall. But he was hardly proud of them. The most they could do was power a few flickering lights that hardly lit the room at all.

He sighed, sweeping his hand across the papers. Not a single one of them screamed 'assistant'. But only one of them seemed have left an impression on him. Marty. The lizard man with a perpetual scowl.

Gaster chuckled, figuring they'd make quite a pair if anything else. Like the Comedy and Tragedy icons of the humans.

He shrugged, stamped an 'ACCEPTED' onto Marty's resume (which he didn't read), and went to bed.


	2. First Day of Work

Asgore wasn’t all too happy that Gaster had only accepted one helper. But through some fancy wordplay, the Doctor got what he wanted. Mostly solitude.

               “Now here’s where we’ll work,” He said casually, strolling along the lab with Marty following behind. “Well, here’s where I work. You work over there.” He waved dismissively, indicating a dismal little corner with a desk, chair, some paper, and a box of crayons. “I don’t want you getting in the way of the actual work so I set up a little play station for you.”

               Marty’s eyes flicked over to the desk, then slowly glared up at Wingdings. “I’m not a child.”

               “I know,” Gaster said with a shrug “And I understand you probably have some intelligence, but there’s no way you can understand my work. It’s far too complex.”

               Marty shot him a glare “Then why did you hire me?”

               “Honestly,” Gaster said, giving half a hop “Because the King wouldn’t leave me alone until I hired _someone._ So I just picked you.”

               “Well, thank you for being blunt,” Marty scowled “But I’m not here to be figurehead.”

               “I understand how you feel,” Gaster hummed “Buuuutttt, as I said, it is far too complicated for you.”

               Marty ignored him, stalking off to the table where Gaster’s various works were strewn about. With a glare shot over his shoulder, he picked up one machine and inspected it.

               “What does this do?” He practically demanded.

               “Hey-o!” Gaster snapped, stomping over “Didn’t I say it was too complicated for you-“

               “Yes. You did,” Marty said “And I asked you what this did.”

               Gaster snorted, crossing his arms over his chest “It’s supposed to reveal information about one’s SOUL.”

               Marty inspected it again. Poking and prodding the bits that dangled about. “What kind of information?”

               Gaster swiped it away from him and spat “I told you this too many times already, you wouldn’t understand!”

               Marty wiped the salivia off of his glasses with the edge of his sleeve. He didn’t even flinch  “I currently don’t understand because you refuse to explain it.”

               Gaster stared at him. Marty realigned his glasses and met his eyes again “Are you going to say something or are you just going to stand there like a moron?”

               “A-a MORON!?” Gaster repeated, his voice raising in both pitch and volume. His eyes burst into a brilliant purple. Marty quirked a brow and that’s about it.

               “Yes, a moron,” He said, one hand on his hip.

               “I am the ROYAL SCIENTIST!” Gaster hissed.

               “And I never suspected the Royal Scientist to act more like the Royal Bitch,” Marty said curtly, turning his attention to the other gadgets. His fiddled with one, eyeing it skeptically as Gaster fumed, his face turning a beet-red.

               Gaster slammed his hands on the table, glowering over the smaller monster. His eyesockets flared purple as several floating hands spun into existence. He leaned downwards and hissed

               _“Do you want to repeat that?”_

“Do you need me to repeat that?” Marty said curtly.

               …

               “HOW THE HELL DOES THAT NOT FREAK YOU OUT!?” Gaster snapped, flailing his arms “That freaks EVERYBODY out!”

               “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,” Marty recited. He put a gadget down and looked into those flaring purple eyes. One claws pointed at him “So unless you do something of any actual merit, I won’t care.”

               Gaster dismissed his magic, baffled. “H….what…”

               Marty held up the first device “So what information does this give about a SOUL?”

               Gaster stared a moment, then gave a mischievous smirk. He explained, but he explained in Wingdings. Marty looked at him blankly.

               “You just told me in a different language,” he stated. Gaster nodded, his grin growing. Marty snorted, straightening his glasses. “Do you really think I wouldn’t understand this? Or are you just that bad at explaining?”

               “How DARE you!” Gaster pouted, crossing his arms “I am an EXCELLENT teacher!”

               “Then prove it,” Marty said “Explain it to me.”

               “Y’know what, fine!” Gaster spat “It records certain attributes of a SOUL, including EXP, LV, and HP-“

               “What do those acronyms stand for?”

               “A-ha!” Gaster exclaimed “See! You don’t understand it!”

               Marty didn’t miss a beat “You didn’t explain it.”

               Gaster ran a hand down his face “…Yes, I suppose you’re right. Well then, EXP stands for Execution Points, measuring the amount of harm a person has brought, LV is actually LOVE-“

               “’Love’?” Marty blinked.

               “….Well, yes. But it stands for Level of Violence. Measuring a person’s ability to disassociate with those they hurt. And the last one, HP, stand for Hope.”

               “Is that an acronym for anything?”

               “Not really, no. It just measures how much a SOUL can take.”

               “I see…” Marty hummed, poking the gadget “That wasn’t hard at all to understand.”

               “….It wasn’t?” Gaster blinked, pulling up a chair and sitting down “Most find it quite an abstract concept.”

               “Well, it is an abstract concept. So that’s the reason why,”  Marty said “How is it supposed to work?”

               “Well…” Gaster spent the majority of that afternoon explaining the device to Marty. Eventually, he confessed that it didn’t quite work, that something was missing. That it didn’t quite record right.

               “Have you ever used an actual SOUL on it?” Marty asked.

               Gaster shook his head, leaning on one arm “No one’s volunteered. And I can’t see the data when I use it on myself for whatever reason.”

               “Really?” Marty blinked, he fidgeted with the device again. Poking and prodding his claws along the surface of its casing. He muttered to himself as his tail twitched periodically. Gaster watched him analyze the machine, his mind running as one hand fidgeted with a notch of wire in his coat’s pocket.

               Marty didn’t know he tampered with it, purposely breaking it. Gaster knew exactly what was wrong with it. It actually had worked earlier, better than expected. But at Marty’s insistence he’d be of use, Gaster had taken it upon himself to make sure the lizard monster could prove it.

               About five minutes later he got his answer.

               ** “Here’s the problem,” Marty stated, grabbing a piece of wire from the materials strewn about “This circuit isn’t complete. It looks like it at first glance, but a piece of wire is missing.” He muttered to himself as he took some tools and fixed the wire into place. Afterwards, he tapped on the side of the machine and it soon sputtered to life. Marty smirked, content. “There we go.”

               “Oh wow,” Gaster blinked “You actually fixed it.”

               “Mhm.” Marty said with a curt nod, eyeing him “So did I pass your little test or what?”

               “Hm? What test?” Gaster said, trying not his nervousness show on his face “It was broken and you fixed it, that’s all there is to it.”

               “…Sure.” Marty rolled his eyes, grabbing another gadget and examining it. Gaster gave himself a short sigh of relief and took the SOUL-reading device from the table. Turning it on, his eye sockets widened in surprise. The data was clearer, more defined, than it was before.

               He slowly looked over to Marty, who smirked at him vainly.

               “So I take that as I did pass?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Bloopers  
>  Here’s the problem,” Marty stated, “You’re a little bitch.”  
>  …”Rude.” Gaster snorted.


End file.
